


Raksha Bandan

by poiwrites (phoenixphiire)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, also i'm a sucker for found family shit so here we are, i just think they're neat, i ship it but we're not there yet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:28:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25736557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixphiire/pseuds/poiwrites
Summary: In which Satya celebrates an Indian holiday with one of her Overwatch friends.
Relationships: Junkrat | Jamison Fawkes & Satya "Symmetra" Vaswani, Junkrat | Jamison Fawkes/Satya "Symmetra" Vaswani
Comments: 10
Kudos: 33





	Raksha Bandan

**Author's Note:**

> Help, I've fallen into rarepair hell and I can't get up :| This fic is not explicitly romantic but it definitely shows. I just really love the found family aspect of their relationship, for both of them, so I thought I'd write this to explore that. Also, Rakhi (or Raksha Bandan) was a couple of days ago so I'm only a little late in posting this, right?

Jamison sat in the workroom of the Overwatch headquarters, perfectly calm except for the restless shaking of his leg under the table. In his hands was a fizzed out bomb shell, and while he’d had an idea of what he wanted to do with it an hour ago, he couldn’t recall what that idea was anymore.

His mind was still stuck on the night before, when he’d bumped into Satya making something in the kitchen. It wasn’t a routine, but it’d happened enough that he'd come to expect a hot drink before bed if he needed it. Apparently not this time, though. Rather than sit with him for a cup of tea, as they were wont to do, she’d shooed him out with a flapping of her hands and told him to shower in the morning.

He’d protested at that, citing that he’d got up to four times a week now and he didn’t smell bad enough to put any of the smelly gunk in his pits, but she rolled her eyes and told him it was for a special occasion. He didn’t mind that so much, and, after a quick sniff in the privacy of the hallway, decided that a shower wouldn’t go amiss. Not if Satya’d had something in mind for him.

He couldn’t stop chewing on what it might be that she was planning. Did it have to do with what she was cooking last night? Was she trying to cook for him? Maybe they’d go on a picnic, find some scrap of land nearby with grass or even a tree and shoot the shit and eat, and she’d lean up real close to him to offer him the last bite of their brekkie and look up at him with those big old doe eyes of hers and tell him that she’d been waiting for a moment alone with him…

Roadie had kicked him out of his room at that point for going on so long, so he happily continued on this train of thought until he passed out in his bed and continued on into the morning. He’d showered and even put on a shirt that morning, though he’d had no idea what they were going to do that day. But it had been three hours since then, and Jamison’s stomach was rumbling since he’d foregone any real breakfast. Where the hell was she? Weren’t they going to get this show on the road?

His leg jolted up a little too high and directly into the underside of the metal table. Junkrat let out a howl and bolted out of his seat, nearly toppling over as he clutched at his knee in pain. The door to the workshop hissed open and he turned around as quick as he could, ignoring the twinge of pain in his leg as he grinned.

“Jamison?” Satya stood there in a deep red sari, holding a small plate with some unidentifiable circles on it. “Are you okay?”

“Peachy!” He glanced over her, first appreciatively and then in confusion. “Where’s the esky?”

“Esky?” Satya repeated. “I don’t know what that is. I’ve come to wish you a happy Raksha Bandan.”

“Oh? That an Indian thing?” He asked, watching as she came closer. “What’s all this?”

“First, the rakhi. Your hand, please?”

He stuck it out for her, watching her as she put the plate down and picked up a thread from it. She pulled it around his wrist, turned his hand over, and tied a tight knot in it.

“Pretty neat, darl,” he said, turning his hand over to look at what she’d tied to his wrist. The medallion was the telltale shimmering color of her hard light, with a bright yellow thread holding it to his wrist. He looked more closely at the medallion and found that his signature smiley face was etched into it. “I like it.”

Satya beamed at him. “Next is the sweet. Here, have it.” She picked up a small light brown disc from the plate and offered it to him as she explained what the holiday was. 

Instead of taking it from her, he bit into it as she held it, grinning ear to ear. Was this what she’d made yesterday, and all for little ol’ him? It was sweet and dense, and he could have sworn it was melting on his-- “What was that?”

“I said that this should be on your right hand, actually, but I did not think it would stay for very long on your prosthetic.”

“No, the, er, bit before that. Did you say brothers?”

“Oh, yes,” she said. “The holiday is meant to strengthen and renew the bond between a brother and sister. It is a symbol of the sister praying for her brother’s health and happiness, and the brother promising to protect and look after her. Vishkar did not see the need for their recruits to celebrate it, so we never did, but I’ve always liked the idea of it.”

Jamison had nearly spat out the sweet in his surprise, but thought the better of wasting good food and swallowed it hurriedly. “This is, er, real sweet and all, Satya, but you realize we’re not brother ‘n sister, yeah?”

“Of course not,” she laughed. “The ceremony isn’t only done between blood siblings. To tell the truth, I decided to celebrate it this year because I felt… well, I felt that I had someone close enough to me to give a rakhi to. Vishkar took care of me, but we were never exactly a family, and I lost touch with my real family after they took me in. This group, it is different here.”

Jamison couldn’t find fault with that. “Suppose this means you’re stuck with me, since I gotta look after you and all.”

“You also owe me money.”

“What.”

Satya giggled low in her throat, something mischievous and cunning, and he was annoyed at how much he enjoyed it. “It’s another part of the holiday. I give you a rakhi and sweets and you give me money.”

“Oi! I didn’t sign up for that! Protection my arse, you’re an extortionist!”

They continued like this all the way to the briefing they had to attend for their next mission, after which Jamison was shocked and dismayed to find that Roadhog had also earned himself a thread with a cute little pig face etched into the medallion. He kept up the fuss and refused to speak to Roadhog until he forgot why, then would spot the band and start with his pique all over again. They continued on like this until they went to bed.

* *

In another part of their quarters, just as Satya was getting ready for bed, she heard a knock at the door and opened it to find Jamison holding out a small blue bomb. “Evening,” he said, taking the opportunity to gaze up and down her nightgown. “Bomb shell for a bombshell?”

Satya blushed but rolled her eyes all the same and took it gingerly. “It’s not live, is it?”

“See for yourself!”

Satya turned it over in her hands and traced her thumb over the smile he placed on all of his munitions, smiling in response herself until she felt something click under her thumb. She yelped as it gave a loud pop and Jamison nearly dove for it to keep it from falling.

“Oi! Mind the goods, Sat!”

“You know I dislike loud noises!” She snapped, though she was thankfully able to calm herself with some careful deep breaths and a sheepish silence from her companion. “Please don’t tell me that’s all--”

“No,” he said, admonished but adamant as he continued to hold the small bomb out to her. Satya took it carefully and opened the sphere to find a small statue of Ganesha inside.

A statue of Ganesha made of ivory and studded with small rubies and diamonds at the base.

“Jamison--”

“Look, I know you feel ways about things ‘n all and theivin’ ain’t up high on your list of approved activities, but I’ve had that in my stash for a while ‘n the bastard I nicked it from didn’t do nothin’ with it ‘n then you pulled this whole brother day thing on me ‘n I reckon if we’re family then maybe it’s okay t’ share things ‘n besides, ‘m not gonna do nothin’ with that but maybe you will since it’s one-a your gods n’ all and it deserves to go to someone who can appreciate it s’all--”

“Thank you,” Satya said. She was not quite equal to looking him in the eye, but she held his hand in hers and kept her gaze just beyond his cheek. “It’s beautiful, and I appreciate it. You didn’t need to give me something so precious. The money is a token to show that you will take care of someone. Such a gift…”

“Well… I haven’t had one before, but feels like a family’s fair precious, too. And I reckon if you’re sure about havin’ me in yours, well. Makes… makes you p--” Jamison, who until that point had been uncharacteristically still, suddenly vibrated with mischief again. “Reckon I oughta show you just what you’re signin’ up for, Sat! Tick tock tick tock!”

He reached out and mussed up her hair before launching himself down the hallway, his cackling echoing in the hallway as he ran off.

Satya reached up, smoothing down her hair as she tried to control the frustration rising in her. He didn’t always purposefully rile her up, as he was clearly trying to do now. Sometimes it was just the chaos of his general existence that made her feel overwhelmed, all loud and bright and hot and demanding without meaning to be. But at other times, it was just enough, or he was calmer, or there was a moment where they were together and she felt like she was laying in the sun on a warm summer’s day whenever he cracked a joke or got excited over new tech.

It was what drove her to finally celebrate Raksha Bandan, after all. That warmth, the light and happy bubbles in her chest when she was with him and Roadhog, she thought it must be what family felt like. A unit of individuals that fit together, that did not see profits or obligations in helping one another any more than an arm sees an injured leg as a burden. 

And sometimes, when Jamison looked at her and flashed her that wide smile, gold glinting in the light, Satya thought he might be the beating heart at the center of the being.


End file.
